


Stacy's Mom. Also, The Ramblings of A Sixteen Year Old Pureblood Wizard.

by seranading_pandemonium



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Complete, F/M, One Shot, Some Cursing, lusting after a married woman, obsession at foundational level, some may call it unrequited love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-12
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-21 10:53:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seranading_pandemonium/pseuds/seranading_pandemonium
Summary: And sure, the twenty seven points on the parchment did carry some importance, but there was one huge, huge thing that his father had managed to keep from him.Oh, you bet it was damnably huge.And now he was fairly certain he was in love with Hermione Granger.





	Stacy's Mom. Also, The Ramblings of A Sixteen Year Old Pureblood Wizard.

Never in a million, gazillion years had Scorpius Malfoy imagined that he would end up in such a situation. Such an embarrassing, reducing-him-to-a-mere-schoolboy-with-a-hard-on situation.  
You see, Weasley had invited him to the burrow for a nice, sweet family dinner.  
And when Weasley wanted a thing done, all she had to do was assume her scary-angry stance with her hands on her hips, bossy glare in place, and the thing simply did itself.  
(And Scorpius was willing to bet his entire broom collection that she was inviting him because Albus won the World Cup bet. After all, one of the pathetic dolts that roamed around him in the Slytherin Common Room had overheard their conversation. Apparently, Weasley had been smashing things in the locker room, shouting. ”In my defence, Krum's _older_ than mum. He's not supposed to be _that_ fit.” Albus' crimson face gave it's reply for him.)  
So now, back to the situation.  
His father had trained him thoroughly on what to do and say, making him rote memorise what _not_ to say. And sure, the twenty seven points on the parchment did carry some importance, but there was one huge, _huge_ thing that his father had managed to keep from him.  
Oh, you bet it was damnably huge.  
And now he was fairly certain he was in love with Hermione Granger.

~

He outright refused to call her Mrs. Weasley, or even Granger-Weasley.  
(He would also outrightly refuse to confess that he had imagined her coming out from his shower at the Malfoy Manor—half wet, as she had done exactly thirteen minutes and 17 eye-blinks earlier— and slip on his robe and then proceed to lie atop his satin silvery sheets.)  
Yes, he had seen her half-wet. Half- _naked_.  
Those smooth, smooth legs all perfectly on display in the short rose robe. Her wet, wet thighs. He couldn't help but note that the colour of her robe complimented her peaches and cream complexion marvellously. (Now he absolutely _had_ to ask the house elves for one of that kind to be placed in his bathroom. Sure, it would clash with the green and black marble, but what if Hermione just once decided to accompany him to his shower? He couldn't possibly leave her without the luxury of a pink bathrobe.)  
As quickly as he could, he had averted his eyes.  
”Ah! I'm terribly sorry, I thought that this was Weasley, uh, Rose's room. Hugo pointed me this way.”  
She blinked.  
”Oh. Oh, well, that's just the one across.” She vaguely motioned towards the door with a hand.  
Scorpius could see tiny drops of water glistening on her outstretched arm as he stealthily sneaked a peek.  
The scent of lavender and lemongrass assaulted his senses in a very, _very_ inappropriate manner. He found himself imagining her moaning out her pleasure while he connected the droplets with his tongue.  
He visibly gulped. This was too much for his teenage self. He was right to think that this overtly sensual yet quaint scene would be forever ingrained in his mind. And spank-bank.  
A light, quick nod and he was out of the door.

~

”Well, I would very much like to extend to you all an invitation to spend an evening at the Malfoy Manor.”  
The entire table went silent.  
As his eyes noted that the beautiful, luscious mouth was no longer smiling in blissful delight in between painfully slow licks of the vanilla ice-cream from the spoon, his dormant brain finally kicked in.  
Oh. _Oh_.  
Yeah. Rule numbers 13 through 20 mentioned the Manor in one way or another. In some very strong, very stressing tone.  
Well, he'd messed up, big time. But he still rested his case that his father, Draco Malfoy, had not warned him of the tantalising danger machine that was Hermione Granger-Weasley.  
Her and that heart-stealing entry of hers into his life .  
(Still, Hermione Malfoy sounded way better. Like a Siren's song or something. Rolls over one's tongue like fucking quality butterbeer.)  
He wanted to slink out of the room, like, yesterday.  
“More potatoes, anyone?” Fleur Weasley's soft voice literally floated around.  
The awkward seconds dissolved as the ever-hungry pack of redheaded men pushed their plates towards her. Malfoy quickly went over the do's and don't's list so as to not offend his darling angel or her Weasleys or Potters. Or that Lupin.  
Though he thought that he had imagined him looking at his Hermione once or twice with something…something _biting_ in his eyes.  
That was something he'd have to get to the bottom of. And soon.  
”So, you'll be joining your father in the family business, then?”  
That came from Harry Potter. The bespectacled auror with the gorgeous Quidditch-playing wife. Scorpius didn't know much of him, other than what was in the magazines and newspapers. Boy Wonder and all.  
The rest he had gathered from his sources at Hogwarts. Mostly about how he was doing a whole lot of good in society even after his adventurous fighting-for-the-light days, and about how he was slightly…disappointing in the child-raising area.  
He quickly spared the beautiful mousy brown-haired woman a glance and answered the question.  
”Yes, I'll be assisting Father in his work until he deems me fit to be taking over.”  
Conversations resumed as the plates were filled and the atmosphere settled.  
Malfoy went back to shoving small spoons of Molly-made greatness into his mouth while occasionally dragging his eyes to take in the exquisite woman he had surrendered his heart and soul and dick to.


End file.
